Zita Inspired Doodle

Earlier this summer, my four-year-old pulled a kid's graphic novel off the shelf of the library and said, "I want to check out this one." Little did either of us realize that we would be checking out the additional two books in the series, backwards. The series revolves around the titular Zita the Spacegirl, although honestly, from the first . . . er, last, I was always a huge fan of Piper.

So last week we cracked open the first of the series, and bumped up against a picture of Piper playing his, well, what is that thing? Recorder? Irish Penny Whistle? Regardless, music is swirling around him on scrolls and I realized: I just had to draw my version of Piper.

After sketching, running it through Painstchainer, fighting with Paintschainer, and then cleaning it in in Drawing Desk, this is what I ended up with:

I'm pretty sure Piper actually has blonde hair, but what do I know? Paintschainer gave him pink hair, so pink hair it is. It also gave him blue demon eyes. It took me awhile to realize that it had colored over his pupils and that's why he looked so terrifying.

Psychedelic demon-eyed Piper

Those eyes just pierce your soul . . .

Possibly the Last Short Story for Awhile

Something strange happened this month: I missed my 12 Short Stories deadline. There have been many things changing in my life, and I’ve realized that there are a few things I will need to put less energy into. That doesn’t mean I won’t write anymore, but that I may write less, or may just focus on longer pieces. That being said, I did write something, it just didn’t meet the word count. So here is one more story. It’s not a story about politics, it’s a story about human nature and human feelings. ——— The war is over, or at least that is what they say. But how do you stop such a thing once it is started? Charles sighed when I asked him, “You act as if you don’t understand politics.” “I don’t,” I scratched a sliver of paint off the window with a razor, “I’m not even sure we should be doing this.” “They said we could remove the blackout paint,” Charles swiped an even curl of latex to the ground. It fell among the budding roses, an artificial petal. “But there are still soldiers ove

Decay, Swine, and Beauty

We are staying at an estate that is like a beautiful woman with tangled hair. Neglect is slowly wearing away at her, and you know that in ten years she will no longer be beautiful. But right now, her unkemptness makes her eyes seem wild, and she is ablaze with a vibrancy no clipped hedge ever had. And there is a pig. I'm hoping to have a little more time to write while we're here. The kids have attended one day of school this month thanks to the snow, and they had some fierce cabin fever. I've been inching along with my mystery, but I really want to get sidetracked and write a little office romance for kicks.

Short Story: Distraction

It was an office, not unlike any of the other offices around the city. There were windows, visible to the lucky few cubes on the ends of the rows. Then there was Vera's cube, situated next to the row of manager's offices. Today she was lucky, someone had left their door open and precious slant of sunlight escaped, warming her back and washing out half of her computer screen. "I never realized your hair was red," Tracy dumped a large stack of paper on her desk, "The florescent lights make everything look so soupy." "What is that?" she pointed at the stack of paper. Tracy only offered compliments when he wanted a favor. "I need this entered," he smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "You have a secretary," Vera waved a freckled hand to her left, "Ask him." "He's sick," Tracy gave her puppy-dog eyes, batting his long dark eyelashes. Vera sighed and fought back a smile. Tracy was such a s

Refracted Neurons

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